


Seeing the Light

by PotionChemist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Divination, Kidnapping, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Moral Dilemmas, Prophecy, Prophetic Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist
Summary: When Sybill Trelawney is sacked, she is forced to leave Hogwarts and finds her way into the hands of a Death Eater. When he goes looking for one prophecy, another is born. How will he react? Will he see the light?
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30
Collections: Divination: 2020 Round Four





	Seeing the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheSlytherinCabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinCabal/pseuds/TheSlytherinCabal) in the [DBQ2020Round4](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2020Round4) collection. 



> This piece was originally posted June 25, 2020.
> 
> Received 2nd Place in Slytherin Cabal's Death By Quill Round 4: Divination
> 
> Thank you to smithandbarrowman for all of her help - she's truly the best.

Walking down the path that led to Hogsmeade, I let my tears flow freely. 

In one afternoon, I’d lost every bit of stability I’d had in my life for the last sixteen years. Hogwarts had been my livelihood and my home; I’d scarcely left the grounds since I’d taken up my post as Divination teacher.

As I continued along, Umbridge’s sickeningly sweet voice echoed through my mind. _Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow’s weather… Pitiful performance during my inspections… Kindly remove yourself from this hall… You are embarrassing us._

Even though Albus offered to let me stay, I gathered the shreds of my pride and left the only home I’d ever known. I thought of the towers—both Ravenclaw and North—where I’d spent most of my life, and I cried even more.

What was I going to do now?

There was a war starting — employment opportunities were going to become scarce.

Deciding I needed the rest, I headed to Rosmerta’s and rented a room, knowing I had plenty of gold since I didn’t spend much of the money I made at Hogwarts.

* * *

For two days, I stayed at The Three Broomsticks, drowning my sorrows in elf-made wine, and then I began to go stir-crazy. I had to sober up and find a place to live. 

After bathing, I dressed warmly, wrapping myself in a cloak and several shawls. Albus had warned me against leaving the inn alone, but I wasn’t going to interrupt anyone’s day—the children needed the other professors more than I did. As I walked down the street to the Owl Post Office, I felt my mind fog.

I knew what was happening, but I’d never been adept at fighting it. I was put under the Imperius Curse by a skilful caster. In my head, he whispered, “Complete your business, return to your room, pack your belongings, and come to the Shrieking Shack.”

Deep down, I wanted to fight the caster, but I quickly succumbed to his prowess. I bought a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and walked back to the inn, my feet moving of their own accord. When I waved my wand and packed my trunk without a second thought, I felt terrified. This curse was more intense than others I’d felt before, taking control of every movement I made.

“Behave normally and smile when you settle your tab with Rosmerta. Tell her you’re going on holiday to France,” the man’s voice cooed.

His deep, smooth tone made me want to listen to him, to obey his every command. I felt like I was in a walking trance, my mind shut off from the outside world.

The strangest pictures flashed before my Inner Eye — a wounded dragon, blinding flashes of light, a snake shedding its scales — and I knew all of my mental energy was being used to See things I normally wouldn’t.

When I checked out, Rosmerta looked concerned, and I knew she’d be owling Albus straight away. As soon as the thought appeared in my mind, the caster seemed to know, urging me to hurry along. Intelligently, he commanded me to shrink all my possessions and place them in my pockets.

When I reached the end of the road, I saw a man dressed in all black, the hood of his cloak pulled over his head. His aura was grey, his energies blocked, with bits of black throughout. This man was very afraid, either for himself or for those he held dear. Crooking his fingers, he beckoned me closer. As I met his eyes, I saw they were also grey, reminding me of the fog in my Orb or a stormcloud.

Everything about him was grey, and I somehow knew he needed guidance.

“Ms Trelawney,” he greeted. “I will gladly provide you new accommodations in exchange for a bit of information. Grab hold of my arm.”

I knew this man, knew that I shouldn’t go with him, but I couldn’t stop myself. Part of me didn’t even want to fight—it felt like I’d been destined to wind up in the Death Eaters’ clutches for many years. 

“Okay, Mr Malfoy,” I replied, grasping his forearm. “I’ll come willingly.”

* * *

When we arrived at Malfoy Manor, everything was eerily silent. The white peacocks didn’t make a sound and the large front doors didn’t creak. The March air was cool and damp, the rains having drenched everything before the sun had risen.

Following Lucius through the long, winding corridors, I looked around, taking in the priceless antiques and artifacts that adorned the walls. Again, my Inner Eye was open wider and more focused than it had ever been, the curse controlling my body and the mundane parts of my mind.

“Lucius!” a woman called, and I turned to see Narcissa Malfoy. “What have you done now?” 

Her aura was mainly white, but tinges of red—anger, passion, love—peppered it, along with specks of black. Fear or grief. In war times, this was not uncommon.

“What must be done, Narcissa. I saw an opportunity and I took it. We cannot retrieve the physical prophecy, but she is the only known Seer in Britain,” he responded. “I will keep her here and find the prophecy with Legilimency.”

When my eyes, likely large and fearful, met his, I saw the flash of light again.

I thought of his name. Lucius. _Light_. 

Making a mental note, I continued to observe the space around me. There was a heaviness, a lingering darkness that made me shiver and pull my shawl tighter around my shoulders.

“You’re a fool,” Narcissa hissed. “Like always, you manage to get us in deeper. Do you think Dumbledore’s kept her on as a professor because of her brilliance?” He opened his mouth to answer and she held her hand up. “Rhetorical question. She’s obviously been under his protection since the first war!”

Her words should have bothered me, but I was still pleasantly foggy, bright light filling my peripherals. 

“—don’t care! One week. That is all you get. She needs to be gone before Draco gets home for Easter. He doesn’t need to be pulled into all of this!”

 _Draco_. The wounded dragon from earlier?

As Narcissa stormed away, the fog receded a bit and Lucius led me along.

Finally, we reached the end of the corridor and he opened the door, leading me into a small bedroom suite. It was unexpectedly feminine, reminding me of my classroom. Gauzy curtains and fine bedding in shades of purple, a plush white carpet, and dark wood furniture... If I was being held captive, at least I would be comfortable.

“I need to examine your mind,” he said, warning me. “It can be… rather uncomfortable. Go remove your cloak and sit on the settee so you don’t fall over when I break through your barriers.”

My feet moved in that direction, but I managed to ask a question. “What is it, exactly, that you want to know, Mr Malfoy? I could simply tell you.”

“It’s best if you don’t know. Safer for you, really.” His cloak vanished, along with his black leather gloves. He conjured a chair in front of the settee and sat down, leaning close to me. “You need to stay calm and let me look around. Can you do that?”

I nodded obediently, though I didn’t make the conscious effort. Holding out his hands palm up, I felt the silent command and took hold, meeting his gaze. In his eyes, I saw the fear that stained his aura, and his desperation came off him in waves.

He needed this plan to work.

As he slipped into my mind, I felt his power once more. His magic was strong and seemed to feed off mine. As soon as he began looking through my memories, my Inner Eye opened, welcoming him and examining him closely, taking note of things to be mulled over later when he wasn’t monitoring my thoughts. 

Over time, his fatigue grew and he weakened.

When he finally pulled back, I instantly felt his absence, my magic reaching for his. Yes, there was darkness, but there was so much light inside of him. It was nearly blinding. Deep down, he wanted to do the right thing, but he was trapped. That explained the conflict, the way his energies were blocked and greying out his aura.

“Dumbledore must’ve hidden it,” he muttered. “I… There is nothing I can see. I’ll need to sleep and try again tomorrow.”

Smiling at him, I squeezed his hand, reminding him of my presence.

“Give me your wand. I’m going to be locking you in. It won’t do to have you escape.” And then his voice was solely in my mind, lulling me into compliance. “Eat the food you’re brought. Sleep. Write down anything you see in your dreams to report back to me.”

* * *

The pattern repeated for two days—he’d work his way through my thoughts and memories and my Inner Eye would catch glimpses of his future. While I couldn’t quite put them together while he was using Legilimency on me, I slept with a journal and self-inking quill beside my bed, taking note of everything I saw in my dreams. Even though I didn’t often remember waking, there were plenty of sketches and notes, my body obeying Lucius Malfoy’s commands.

_A large dog. A bold, dark line. Magical restraints. Fading light. Wounded dragons and wilting flowers. Snakes shedding their skin._

_The light one will fight the light._

_The darkest line will end._

I tried to examine each piece individually. The large dog had to be the Grim — I thought of Voldemort’s first reign and shuddered. Death omens would be popping up everywhere.

While I wasn’t sure of what the bold, black line represented, it felt significant. 

Shaking my head, I resumed my examination of the journal. Fading light and the light one will fight the light.

And Lucius meant light.

Was Lucius going to fight against the Order — the light — and fade away? Die? I thought about his grey aura, his fear and inner conflict.

He was truly at a crossroads, on the verge of losing everything because of his allegiance in the upcoming war.

And then I thought about snakes shedding their skin. I was in a house that merged two traditionally Slytherin lines. The Blacks and Malfoys, the purest of purebloods, were sure to be ensconced in the Dark side of the war.

The pieces were all there, but I was fatigued from the Legilimency. I set the journal back on the bedside table and rolled over, drifting back to sleep.

On the fourth day, Lucius never came.

The house-elves still brought me food and everything I could possibly need was at my fingertips, but I felt uneasy. Reaching into my trunk, I pulled out my crystal ball and set it safely on the small table in front of the settee. Preferring to be eye-level with it, I pulled all the pillows from my bed and laid them on the floor, creating a soft place for me to sit.

Twisting my hair up and securing it with a stray band, I finished my tea, hoping the caffeine would help me focus.

Since I’d not seen Lucius yet, my brain was less clouded, his curse not as potent as it had been before. When I sat down and gazed into the depths of the Orb, I saw the usual wispy fog swirling around, but the same symbols that had been present in my dreams started appearing.

Flashes of light.

The Grim.

Magical shackles.

A wounded dragon.

A wilting flower.

Darkness.

Snakes shedding their skin, leaving behind the old as they grew, new scales taking their place.

The Fates were most definitely trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t seem to put it together. It wasn’t often that I received messages like this on repeat. It had to be important. 

If only I could figure it out.

* * *

On the fifth day, Lucius returned in a sour mood, looking completely exhausted.

“I need to see the night you met with Dumbledore in the Hog’s Head, the night you interviewed for your position at Hogwarts,” he snapped. “It is a matter of life and death.”

He pointed his wand at my face and my heart started pounding in my chest. Moving backwards, I eventually hit a wall.

“ _Imperio_ ,” he snarled. 

In my head, I heard, “Show me the night Albus Dumbledore interviewed you. Now. _Legilimens_!”

My mind was no longer my own, but my Inner Eye was fully awake, the words finally putting themselves together in my mind. 

_Death of the darkest line is imminent — the Grim will be revealed and taken. The light will fight against the light and be captured, leaving the dragon in its place. At the very end, the flower will wilt, the dragon will be wounded, and the light will be extinguished if the snakes do not shed their skin._

“What was that?!” He pressed his wand against my throat. “What did those words mean? Is that what you said to Dumbledore?”

“No,” I squeaked. “No, not at all! I don’t know what I said to Dumbledore. This… there have been symbols in my dreams. Look in the journal by the bed!”

Turning, he quickly strode over, lifting it and flipping through the pages. “I thought this was all just mad ramblings. Is this how you usually make predictions?”

I shook my head. “My Inner Eye, it’s focused on you. Between the Imperius and the Legilimency, you’re always in my mind. I think—”

“Speak the words I just heard in your head,” he commanded. “Make the prediction.”

Losing control of myself, I repeated myself — the words flowed freely and his face fell.

“This has to do with me?”

“I-I think s-so. I c-can’t see anyone but you.”

He started to pace, wearing a path into the plush white carpet.

“Let’s break it down,” he said, his voice kinder than it had been before. “It started out with _‘Death of the darkest line is imminent — the Grim will be revealed and taken.’_ ’ Obviously the Grim means death, but what does _the darkest line_ mean?”

“I’m n-not certain,” I began, “but your family line would likely be considered one of the d-darkest, yes?”

His jaw clenched in anger, but he kept going. “‘ _The light will fight the light and be captured, leaving the dragon in its place.’_ I’m pretty clear on this. My name—”

“Means light, and your son is Draco, the d-dragon. He will take up the m-mantle in your absence,” I interrupted, my mundane mind and Inner Eye whirring in tandem, putting the pieces together.

“I did manage to establish that one on my own, thank you.” Looking me in the eyes, Lucius said, “This is the part that concerns me — _‘At the very end, the flower will wilt, the dragon will be wounded, and the light will be extinguished if the snakes do not shed their skin.’_ ”

“There is an ‘if’ statement there — if you figure out the if, the proposed outcome c-could be changed,” I replied, my logical Ravenclaw side coming out. “And snakes shedding skin, that’s an obvious one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The symbolism! When a snake sheds its skin, it’s a rebirth. It lets go of the p-past, of the skin it has outgrown over time.” Summoning all my courage, I looked him straight in the eyes. “A snake’s scales c-change size and shape as they g-grow. I think this p-prophecy is telling you to grow and evolve. It’s time for you to c-change, to leave the p-past and any _m-markings_ on your old skin behind.”

Lucius’ hand covered his Dark Mark, understanding my meaning. 

I nodded my head solemnly. “Is this life what you want for your s-son? For him to take the M-Mark at such a young age?” 

“I don’t see another way,” he yelled, running his fingers through his hair.

“You do see another way. You just d-don’t want to accept it,” I began, my voice still trembling. “You c-could defect. You c-could turn spy and work with the Order. You are choosing n-not to.”

“It’s not that simple,” he replied, his voice cracking. “How am I supposed to play both sides and keep my family safe?”

“Mr Malfoy, you know the answer. D-Dumbledore—”

“—will never help me after the things I’ve done!” He sat heavily on the settee, burying his face in his hands.

Warily, I crept towards him, laying a hand on his broad shoulder. “I think you’d be surprised,” I murmured. “I think if you went to him now, he’d find a way to help you. But if you wait, it may be too late.”

He looked up at me, his grey eyes dark and tumultuous. “Leaving the Dark Lord is a sure way to get myself killed. And if I’m caught spying?” He shuddered. “I’d be made an example of. It wouldn’t matter how many Galleons are in my vault or that I have a Manor large enough to house most of the Death Eaters. He would flay me alive for all to see.”

When I didn’t respond, he seemed to grow even more introspective, likely searching for other excuses. I knew he needed to be led carefully to the right conclusion. 

“Nevermind what he would do to Draco and Narcissa—”

“They’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sure Dumbledore would help them, even if he takes issue with you,” I interrupted, not giving him time to ramble on. My confidence had grown, steadying my voice. “You could also protect them by giving the Order information. They need someone like you to step up, Lucius. You know the Dark Lord doesn’t entrust all his secrets to any single Death Eater—it’s far too dangerous. You all have different information and roles to play.”

As my words swept over him, he rose to start pacing again, the physical movement expending his nervous energy. 

“That’s the thing. How can I be helpful when I don’t know everything? Because I’m in the Inner Circle, they’ll think I’m lying or withholding information intentionally,” he mused aloud. “The Dark Lord already doubts my loyalty since I did not search for him. If neither side trusts me, where do I turn?” 

While I knew he wasn’t looking for an answer, I decided to speak freely. “You do what’s right, Lucius. You learn to accept Muggles and Muggle-borns, especially since they’ve done nothing to harm you. You change your ways and prove that you deserve a chance, especially if you want to protect your son and your wife. They are innocent right now; they needn’t be subjected to the horrors of the Dark Lord.”

“That’s all I want. I want to keep them safe. I don’t care about myself.”

“Please let me help you.”

Narrowing his eyes, he said, “I need time to think. To talk to Narcissa and decide.”

“I can’t leave until you let me,” I replied with a shrug. “Let me know when you’ve made up your mind.”

* * *

**Two Years Later...**

As Lucius made his way through the crowds to approach me, his usual air of arrogance was absent. 

“Mr Malfoy,” I greeted with a smile. “It seems you made the right decision.” 

“Indeed.” He squirmed uncomfortably. “Thank you for helping me see the light.”

Waving a hand, I gestured towards his son who was talking to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger like they’d been friends since they were eleven years old. “It appears you’re not the only one.”

“Well, I am certain that everyone has changed,” Lucius began. “I, however, still consider myself to be indebted to you—”

“Really, you’re not.”

“I am,” he reiterated, meeting my eyes. “I was selfish and wanted to keep my wife and son safe. And thanks to your foresight, you helped me protect them. In fact, I’m indebted to you three times over since my entire family survived the war. I’ve agreed to fund any renovations to the North Tower. You can do whatever you like in your classroom and quarters. Do not worry about the cost or magic involved.” 

My glasses fogged with the tears forming in my eyes and he moved to end the conversation, obviously uncomfortable with overly emotional displays.

“Thank you, Mr Malfoy.”

“No,” he said seriously. “Thank _you_ for sharing your gift.”

“And thank you for helping the Order.” I paused, unsure if I should go on. “I saw the light in you. For Salazar’s sake, please do not let it go out.”

“Please feel free to call on the House of Malfoy, should you ever need anything, Professor Trelawney.” He nodded his thanks and returned to his family. 

In that moment, I felt more accomplished than I ever had before; my Inner Eye had examined a man and guided him out of the darkness. His aura was returning to normal, his light shining brighter than it ever had before.

My gift was real, even if the naysayers didn’t believe it.


End file.
